


A Library of Returns

by roliver4



Series: "Maybe You Don't Write Enough..." [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: One Shot, One Shot Collection, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 09:49:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5923963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roliver4/pseuds/roliver4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke returns for only a brief moment...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Library of Returns

**Author's Note:**

> I was given a 1 shot prompt "There in the library, he knew the meaning of disbelief..." and challenged to write Clarke's return in under 700 words.
> 
> 697 words later and this is what I got.
> 
> This was written in the time before the premier and episode 2.
> 
> add me on tumblr and let's chat: shaneycakes-1131.tumblr.com
> 
> i follow back!

There in the library, he knew the meaning of disbelief. Lincoln stood with mouth gaping wide, watching as the body lurched forward, the musk and grime basically forming a cloud around the human. It had been three long, cold months since he watched the woman walk away, leaving just before reaching the gates of the camp that he now called home. But now, she was here, making her way through the overgrowth and the rocks to where the Commander sat talking with her people.

Lexa had been making great strides in becoming the leader that Clarke said she could be. Many saw it as weakness at first, but soon, the majority of the grounders began accepting the new, less condemning Commander as she trained the youth and occasionally smiled, allowing herself to let down her guard, if only for a moment before the walls went back up again. She even moved so far as to remove the kill order on his head before throwing her guard back up. It was a process-- at least she was trying.

But all of this progress was about to come to a screeching halt at the dirty hands of the once blonde. Her now claret hair was matted in clumps across her face as she slouched past the young man, shifting only her eyes for a brief moment to look at him. Her head maintained its focus forward, but the blue glisten around her pupils delivered a message to him.

I’m back.

Taking a deep breath, he found the curl of his lips the best he could, busying himself with the task that had been interrupted by his old friend. His hands continued to work with the hide in front of him, his face dropping enough to hide his stare as he concentrated on the woman who had somehow managed to go this long without being noticed.

And then it happened. Like a hurricane on the shore, the energy changed completely, sending the grounder camp into a frenzy. Everyone seemed to back away from the woman as if she was harboring some sort of infectious disease within her body. A few whispers echoed among the group before the Commander managed to turn. It wasn’t until the words “Klark kom skai kru,” and “wanheda,” fell from the lips of one of the younger clan members like he was reciting an epic tale passed from generations that the Commander stood, her back still against him and against her old love.

“Have you returned?” Lexa asks, her strong, chiseled voice emanating from her turned back as her hand rests on her sword-- a nervous habit that the man noticed about her since she began opening up. Her braids cascade down her back as she rises to her feet and the other woman stumbles against the ground below her.

“Yu said mebi oso na hit choda op nodotaim,” a growl is produced from Clarke as she lifts her eyes to face the Commander. Lexa spins on her heel, taking a step down from the riser that she had been occupying.

“And you’ve been learning,” she adds, closing the distance between her and the younger woman. “Where have you been?” the words are basically a whisper against Clarke as Lexa’s jaw relaxes for only a moment. Biting it back, she lifts her head to address the clan, her words reverberating in only a way that the Commander’s can. “Ste kom work,” she bellows, turning quickly to the filth ridden woman before her. With a hand on Clarke’s arm, she whispers almost too softly for Lincoln to hear, but he reads her lips just enough to pinpoint two words... “Kom me...”

With me...

The commander walks past the Wanheda, grabbing the blonde’s arm as she passes. The two retreat deeper into the capitol and it was in that moment that Lincoln wondered how this would all play out. There was really only one of two ways available.

The first, things might start fixing themselves.

The second…

Lincoln sighs, returning back to his work, swallowing deeply the lump in his throat, trying to push back the thoughts that still haunted his nightmares-- knowing that war was always close.


End file.
